Vassal
by forthright
Summary: If not for Sesshoumaru, Miroku would be dead; because of Sesshoumaru, Miroku must abandon his life. A story told in bits and pieces. Canon divergence. Not yaoi.
1. Sacrifice

**Story Summary: **If not for Sesshoumaru, Miroku would be dead; because of Sesshoumaru, Miroku must abandon his life. A story told in bits and pieces. Canon divergence. Not yaoi.

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this new venture... especially for the one whose life was spared. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

**Author's Note: **Small stories with small chapters suit me. This tale was begun for the fun of it... and because I have a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**. Chapters will be short. (Round numbers make me happy.) The plot will meander. (Yes, there is one.) Updates will be sporadic. (I'm not in a hurry.)

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**Chapter 1: Sacrifice**

He'd lived under the shadow of death since childhood, but in the end, it still managed to take him by surprise. Miroku stared in morbid fascination at the pulsing tentacle that had gored him from behind. _Ah. That did not go as well as hoped. _He dimly registered Rin's whimper before Naraku jerked him upwards and flung him across the clearing.

Landing heavily, Miroku struggled to rise, blinking to clear his vision. _Did I only delay the inevitable? _Fearing that his desperate lunge had been for naught, he searched dazedly for any sign of Rin's bright kimono. A flash of color caught his eye just as she disappeared behind a pair of white hakama. _She made it to safety. Thank goodness. _

Mercifully, his staff remained in his grasp, so the monk pulled it closer and fought to his feet. Pain blossomed in his midsection, and he flattened his palm against his wound. Swaying, he lifted a trembling hand and gazed at the sodden cloth of his gauntlet. It clung wetly to his wrist, and red slicked the prayer beads that sealed _kazaana_. _This is bad. I need to stop the bleeding. _He weakly reapplied pressure, but an unpleasant gush welled up and escaped between his fingers.

The monk numbly searched for some remedy, but the action had shifted away from the small knoll on which he'd taken his stand. His friends were caught up in what they all hoped would be their final battle against Naraku. _How ironic. _Removed from immediate danger, he was also isolated from the help he needed. _If I call out..._ Miroku's mouth worked, but he couldn't gather enough breath to shout. Icy realization coursed through his veins. As his life slowly pooled around his sandals, he acknowledged the stark truth. _I may be past help. _

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**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #22, Bloodstain. 300 words. Posted on June 17, 2010.


	2. Final Indignity

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who understands that beggars can't be choosers. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

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**Chapter 2: Final Indignity**

_I failed. _Nausea washed over Miroku, and he gagged and coughed, spattering the ground with even more blood. Roaring filled his ears, and as it drowned out all other noise, he felt as if it was cutting him off from the world. _I know this sound. _The sucking hollowness tugged at him from within, mercilessly dragging him towards the void. _This is death. _

Even breathing hurt now, but he wasn't ready to stop fighting for his next lungful of air. At the very least, he wanted to say goodbye, but options were scarce. Violet eyes drifted towards Rin's stoic protector. His friends may have been ignorant of his predicament, but his final struggle wasn't wholly unobserved. _Sesshoumaru-sama._ Unsure if the taiyoukai would even acknowledge his summons, Miroku released his ineffectual grasp on his wound and beckoned weakly with a gory hand. _Please. I cannot make it to you. _

He could have wept in relief when Sesshoumaru said something to his young ward, then slowly strode forward. _I would have preferred a friendly face, but it seems I must settle for a familiar one. _Miroku desperately wanted company before death forced him onto the lonely journey into the next life.

Sesshoumaru stopped directly in front of him, and Miroku raised his dimming gaze to that of Inuyasha's half brother. _Yellow is an unsettling shade for eyes_, he through randomly. _Predatory. Pitiless._ He cursed himself for being ungrateful, but he didn't really want the last thing he'd see in this life to be the expressionless face of a demon who couldn't care less._ At least Sesshoumaru-sama has deigned to bear witness to my demise. _Tears welled unbidden in his eyes. _It __is__ better than being alone._

Miroku's legs trembled, then gave out, and he sagged to his knees. Letting his staff fall, he reached out like a small boy to pluck at Sesshoumaru's trailing sleeve._ It hurts. _In his last lucid moments, the monk realized that he'd liberally spattered the taiyoukai's pristine hakama with blood, an indignity he would have doubtlessly paid for with his life if he hadn't already been on the brink of death. _An amusing thought. _He tried to wipe the stain away, but his half-hearted dabbing only made matters worse. _What a mess._ The ghost of a smile lightened his expression as he sought Sesshoumaru's gaze one more time. With his very last breath, he whispered, "My apologies."

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**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #97, Dying. 400 words. Posted on June 18, 2010.


	3. Blade of Heaven

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who's called out of the darkness. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

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**Chapter 3: Blade of Heaven**

Once. Twice. Blazing light slashed through the muddling darkness, driving the heaviness from Miroku's limbs as a compelling voice spoke into the emptiness. With quiet authority, the sounds repeated, and this time they resolved into familiar syllables. "Miroku."

_Me?_ In one action-packed moment, the monk drew breath and opened his eyes. He stared uncomprehending into Sesshoumaru's face as he sheathed a sword. _Ah. I wasn't aware he knew my name._ Then, the taiyoukai prodded Miroku's side with the toe of his boot. The monk yelped and scrambled backwards, instinctively covering a wound that was... no longer there!

"Hnn... apology accepted."

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**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #17, Voice. 100 words. Posted on June 19, 2010.


	4. Behind the Times

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who has some catching up to do. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

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**Chapter 4: Behind the Times**

Immediately, Miroku was surrounded. Sango, Kagome, Shippo, Kirara, and even Inuyasha crowded close—hugging, crying, scolding, and apologizing. Their presence thoroughly disoriented him, for the last he remembered, they'd been in the thick of battle. Confused, he glanced over their heads at Sesshoumaru, who watched from a polite distance, but the taiyoukai merely looked away.

Gradually, the things his friends were saying filtered through. "I was dead," he said, needing to hear it plainly.

"Yeah," Inuyasha confirmed. "After the battle, my bastard of a brother used my old man's sword to bring you back."

Once again, the monk's gaze swerved towards Sesshoumaru, who didn't bat an eye at this disconcerting bit of news. _It is clear enough where my life ranks on his list of priorities. I wonder just how long he left my lying here. _A quick perusal of the ground around him showed that it was free of all traces of blood. Even Sesshoumaru's hakama had been renewed to spotlessness. The only thing that remained of his mortal wound were the rips in his clothing where Naraku had run him through. Suddenly, Miroku realized what else their words meant. "_After_ the battle? It is over?"

Inuyasha smirked triumphantly. "Yeah, I finished him off."

"Sesshoumaru-sama, too," Kagome gently reminded.

"Keh... guess he helped some," the hanyou gruffly admitted. "Especially after he told us you were a goner and led us over here. You _ain't_ supposed to die on us, Houshi."

"I will bear that in mind, my friend," he promised as he held out a hand to Sango. The taijiya quickly moved into his embrace, and he swallowed hard. _It is good to be alive. _

"Kinda a shame you missed out on that last part," Inuyasha remarked thoughtfully. "There's not much left of him, but if you wanna piss on Naraku's dust, I'll show you where to aim."

"Inuyasha!" groaned Kagome.

"What?" he asked, shoving his hands into his sleeves. "He had just as much cause to hate him as the rest of us."

"Your curse," Sango quietly prompted. "Have you checked?"

Slowly, Miroku unwound the prayer beads, baring his right palm for all to see. His generational curse had been lifted; the _kazaana_ was no more. Smiles led to laughter, and laughter led to tears. For the first time since Mushin had taught him to contain death within his hand, he was truly free. _I have my life back. _

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**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #4, Confusing. 400 words. Posted on June 21, 2010.


	5. Anything

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the grateful one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

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**Chapter 5: Anything**

Miroku was mildly surprised when they set their backs to the field of battle and Sesshoumaru's entourage followed. Seizing his chance, the monk dropped back to speak with the taiyoukai. "I wish to express my overwhelming gratitude," he said earnestly. "Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

Sesshoumaru stared straight ahead and coolly asked, "You offer _anything_?"

"If it is in my power..."

"You _have_ nothing."

"True, I am a man of humble means..."

"You misunderstand." Miroku stopped walking, and Sesshoumaru turned to regard him calmly. "You cannot give me what is already mine. I will take _everything_."

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**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #78, Gratitude. 100 words. Posted on June 23, 2010.


	6. Cost of Living

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who's in a difficult position. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

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**Chapter 6: Cost of Living**

Miroku didn't bother feigning ignorance. The taiyoukai's meaning was clear enough, and it sent his mind reeling. _A life debt? So I am not free after all. _Choosing his words with care, the monk asked, "What are your expectations?"

"When I leave, you will follow."

_Ah._ The monk was hardly in a position to quibble for better terms. _Without his intervention, I would be dead, but the cost of living is high indeed. My life for my life. An even trade._ Miroku bowed deeply and murmured, "I will be... prepared."

"Shall I inform my brother?"

"No, I'll tell them." _Somehow. _

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**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #50, Life. 100 words. Posted on June 24, 2010.


	7. Breaking

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the anxious one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

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**Chapter 7: Breaking**

As they traveled, Miroku's friends recounted their epic struggle, taking turns detailing the parts of the battle he'd missed. Inuyasha was especially determined to fill in the gaps for him, earnestly and without boasting. _I wonder if anyone gave him the same courtesy when he opened his eyes after a five-decade sleep? _

The monk listened with half an ear, and though he smiled often, it was forced. Too much was still in limbo. Though it looked as though Sesshoumaru intended to accompany them all the way back to Kaede's village, at any point the taiyoukai could turn aside... and he would have to follow. Before that happened, Miroku needed to find the words to explain. _I must break it gently. _

Shippo claimed his usual place on the monk's shoulder, unobtrusively clinging, but he didn't complain about the near-throttling. The kit understood loss far too well. The same could be said of the taijiya siblings, who walked side by side ahead of them. Kohaku's scrape with death had been nearly as close as his own, so their reunion was especially joyous. _They would have had each other no matter what. I suppose they still will. _Knowing Sango wouldn't be alone eased a few of the worries knotting in Miroku's gut. _She would have forgiven me for dying, but will she forgive me for breaking my promise and walking away from the life we hoped to share?_

He stole a glance at the austere taiyoukai and braced himself for whatever lay ahead. When Miroku's life was ending, all he'd wanted was the chance to say goodbye to his friends. Now, that his wish had been granted, those were the last words he wanted to say. Dying had ravaged him, body and soul, but living wasn't any kinder. It was breaking his heart.

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**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #12, It Is Forced. 300 words. Posted on June 28, 2010.


	8. Much Obliged

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who understands all too well. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

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**Chapter 8: Much Obliged**

As the landscape grew more familiar, Miroku's reluctance to speak slowly faded away. _It must be now... before the end. _Their quest was at its close. Indeed, when they reached the village, they would cross the finish line; however, in another sense, home was just another starting point. He could hear it in their words, in the way the conversations slowly shifted from recounting their exploits to planning new ones.

"Once we're back, I can finally show you..."

"The first thing I want to do when we get home is..."

"I can hardly wait to..."

Everyone's hearts and minds were already leaping ahead, and their excitement should have been contagious. Instead, it cut him to the quick. _They see a bright future, and they assume I have a place in it. I need to tell them before they pin any more hopes on me. _The longer he delayed, the crueler the news would be.

Miroku waited until evening, when the travelers had gathered around the fire. He pushed his food around while waiting for the others finished their meals, and when a contented lull settled on the group, he spoke into it. "I want to thank all of you for... everything," he announced lamely.

All eyes turned his way, and reluctantly, he searched their faces. Inuyasha's puzzled frown, Kagome's soft smile, Shippo's curious blink, Kohaku's shy gaze—they were as familiar as they were dear. He lingered last and longest on Sango's face, smiling in spite of himself when her cheeks colored. Though he owed her a private explanation, this public confession needed to come first.

The monk glanced briefly in Sesshoumaru's direction, but the taiyoukai was gazing off into the distance. Oddly enough, the lack of pressure from his quarter made it easier to continue. "I cannot begin to express how much I treasure the time we have spent together."

Inuyasha fidgeted and gruffly said, "You don't have to say such embarrassing stuff, houshi. We all know what you mean."

It was true. They did. After so much time together, they understood one another _very_ well. That's why Miroku knew this wasn't going to go over well.

Taking a steadying breath, he forged ahead. "I owe a great debt to Sesshoumaru-sama," he announced, then stumbled to another stop. He couldn't tell his friends where he was going, what he would be doing, or even when he was leaving because the taiyoukai hadn't given him any details. Still, what little he knew needed to be shared. "When Sesshoumaru-sama leaves, I will accompany him."

This time, everyone turned to look at Sesshoumaru, who ignored them all in favor of the rising moon. The fire crackled and crickets chirped, but finally, Inuyasha demanded, "What for?"

"I am not sure," Miroku confessed.

"Okay... so he's got a job for you or something?"

"Or something."

"For how long?" the hanyou pressed.

The monk swallowed hard. "Indefinitely."

Inuyasha gawked at him, but finally blurted, "Are you _crazy_?"

Shaking his head, Miroku quietly corrected, "I am sorry."

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**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #48, Obligation. 500 words. Posted on July 6, 2010.


	9. Irrefutable Claim

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who's right. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

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**Chapter 9: Irrefutable Claim**

Inuyasha reacted. Badly.

_It is rather heartwarming... in a snarly, growly, blisteringly profane way. _As Miroku watched the hanyou get in his half-brother's face, he realized that a small part of him had been counting on this confrontation. _By his sheer stubbornness, can Inuyasha force a compromise?_ Probably not, but it was balm to Miroku's soul to hear the hanyou say just what he thought about Sesshoumaru's demands. Harsh. Petty. Unfair. Wrong.

"What in all the hells gives you the right to take Miroku?" Inuyasha snarled.

Sesshoumaru's brow quirked. "Do any of you deny his death?"

Everyone exchanged uncomfortable glances, and Miroku had a worrisome thought. _What if Sesshoumaru-sama waited to revive me on purpose, so they would all be witnesses? Having seen for themselves, none of them can deny his claim._ _But... why? _He couldn't fathom any reason for the Western Lord to want his company.

"Fine... he owes you, but let him show his gratitude some other way!" argued Inuyasha. He waved a hand towards Sango, saying, "He's made promises... plans!"

Sesshoumaru shrugged one shoulder. "All forfeit upon death."

"But he's _not_ dead!"

"Thanks to me."

Inuyasha scowled and demanded, "What are you planning to do with him?"

"That is not your concern, little brother."

"But he's one of us!"

"Hnn... and you let him die."

The hanyou flinched as if he'd been struck, and when he tried again, he was much more subdued. "Miroku belongs _here_."

"He _belongs_ in the afterlife."

"And you brought him back out of the goodness of your heart?" Inuyasha asked sarcastically.

"Only a fool would believe that," replied Sesshoumaru in a flat tone.

"Then _why_?" snapped his brother.

Miroku's breath caught and held as he waited for an answer for the question that had been whirling through his mind during all hours of the day and night. _Is there a __why__?_

Sesshoumaru's golden eyes slanted his way, casually cold. "My reasons are my own."

"That ain't any kind of answer!"

"I owe you no other."

"What about Miroku?" Inuyasha pled, his voice dropping urgently. "If _I_ know he's been stewing over something for the last couple days, you and your damned nose musta known it, too."

_Ah... of course._ When Miroku first began traveling with Inuyasha and the others, it had taken him weeks to figure out how someone so emotionally dense could be so sensitive to the moods of those around him. The inu-hanyou's keen nose had actually helped get them over the rocky beginnings of friendship. Inuyasha knew sincerity when he smelled it... and that had opened up the door to trust. _My private worries were ill-concealed. _Miroku could feel embarrassment burning at the tips of his ears. "It is all right, Inuyasha."

In an instant, the hanyou was before him, grasping his shoulders and giving him a shake. "No, it _ain't_," he growled. "Has the bastard told you _anything_?"

"No."

"And you're fine with blindly following him?"

"What else would you have me do?" Miroku countered in a tight voice.

When no answer was forthcoming, Sesshoumaru calmly said, "The monk died. Go on without him."

"No!" Inuyasha exclaimed.

Miroku found himself shoved behind his friend's back and quickly caught Inuyasha's sword arm, preventing him from drawing Tetsusaiga. Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru had only just begun to bridge the gap that lay between them, and he had no desire to see bridges burn or rifts deepen. _I may not have a choice where I will go, but I can still make choices. This parting will be peaceful. _Turning Inuyasha to face him, Miroku said, "I told him I would go. Would you have your brother believe that a human's word is anything less than honorable?"

The expression in the hanyou's eyes was tragic. "I let you die, but there's no fucking way I'm gonna let you live in hell."

"Sesshoumaru-sama cannot be so terrible if Rin-chan can face each day with a smile," Miroku reasoned aloud. "I will be fine."

Inuyasha opened his mouth to argue further, but closed it again with a snap. Fixing his brother with a menacing glare, he said, "If he's going with you, then you're gonna explain."

The taiyoukai's expression could only be called bored. "I do not answer to you."

Bristling, he replied, "I ain't asking you to tell _me_. You're gonna tell _him_."

Miroku placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Inuyasha, I have already agreed..."

"But you don't know what you agreed to," he interrupted. Meeting Sesshoumaru's gaze once more, Inuyasha announced, "Unless you set his mind at ease, there's no fucking way I'm letting you take him."

In the moments that followed, no one dared to breathe, and then, Sesshoumaru simply turned his back. As he walked out of the ring of firelight, his voice carried through the still night. "Miroku, come."

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**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #40, Uncompromising Attitude. 800 words. Posted on July 7, 2010.


	10. In the Dark

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who harbors fears. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 10: In the Dark**

Sesshoumaru walked slowly, which was a mercy given the deep darkness that preceded moonrise. At first, Miroku feared that the taiyoukai intended to leave the group permanently, but then he stopped and commanded, "Ask."

The monk slowly shook his head, at a loss.

"Inuyasha will not relent until you are rid of your fears. Confront them." Tilting he head thoughtfully, Sesshoumaru revised his statement. "Confront _me_."

"Why are you doing this?"

"That does not concern you."

Miroku gaped in utter disbelief. "You tell me to ask, but you refuse to answer?"

"My reasons are my own," Sesshoumaru calmly repeated. "Your fears are our topic. Ask accordingly."

"Am I your slave?" the monk blurted.

"Is that what you wish?"

"No!"

The taiyoukai's brow arched. "Then do not suggest it."

"Then what am I?"

"A human," Sesshoumaru replied in a bored tone.

"Can you be more specific?"

"A human male."

Gripping his shakujou as he strove for patience, Miroku tried again. "What am I _to you_?"

"Not much."

"But I was worth saving," he pressed.

"Saving?" Sesshoumaru softly echoed. "I _acquired_ you."

"_Why_?" Miroku asked, a desperate edge to his tone. The taiyoukai's brow arched at the repetition of a question he'd already declared unacceptable. Shaking his head, the monk rephrased. "I want a reason for being here. Surely you have _some_ purpose for me?"

"Why?" he challenged, his face unreadable.

"If your reasons are your own, then you must _have_ them," Miroku replied with as much respect as he could muster.

Sesshoumaru inclined his head. "Will a title do?"

"It would be a place to start," the monk admitted.

The taiyoukai gazed off towards the stars, apparently deep in thought. Finally, Miroku's patience was rewarded. "A vassal." Sesshoumaru pursed his lips, then met the man's wary gaze. "You are my vassal."

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**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #35, Something Desired. 300 words. Posted on July 12, 2010.


	11. Dividing Allegiances

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who is willing to fight. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

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**Chapter 11: Dividing Allegiances**

_Vassal. _Miroku tested the title, turning it over in his mind as he considered its implications. For reasons beyond knowing, Sesshoumaru wished to retain a simple wandering monk._ It could be worse... indeed, I could go so far as to say I have been __elevated__ to a position of considerable respectability. _Miroku might have been flattered by the prospect... had he been given any choice in the matter.

The moon crested the horizon, bathing the forest with cold light, making it easier to see. Head down, the monk kept the trailing ends of fur and silk in his peripheral vision as he followed the taiyoukai back towards camp. _A youkai lord of Sesshoumaru-sama's reputation has dignity to spare; I will surely benefit from his overabundance. _Securing a position with a wealthy patron had never before been an option since _living_ was tantamount to living well. That he'd managed both posthumously was rather ironic.

Miroku's carefree moments had mostly been begged, borrowed, or stolen. _Earning my happiness certainly didn't work out very well. _Practically speaking, there _were_ possible advantages to an association with the Western Lord. _Hmm... wait. __Is__ Sesshoumaru-sama wealthy? _If the taiyoukai had substantial holdings, he spent most of his time neglecting them. _The way he ranges through the countryside, he could be just as homeless as I am. Lovely_, he thought with a wry smile._ Just when I thought I would be settling down, I am bound to a wanderer instead of a wife. _

Searching his memory, Miroku realized just how little he knew about the taiyoukai. On the flipside, he doubted Sesshoumaru knew much of his past either. _Orphan, philanderer, con man—would it change his mind if he knew what manner of man he has 'acquired'? _Miroku was still toying with the prospect of getting Sesshoumaru to un-want him when the taiyoukai drew to a halt.

Sango barred their path, fight in her eyes.

Miroku hastened to place himself between the two and turned to Sesshoumaru. "She and I... we had an understanding," he said in a low, urgent voice.

Golden eyes slanted his way. "Do you and I have an understanding?"

"Ah... not in all respects, no," Miroku replied honestly.

"Your _only_ obligation is to me."

Miroku bowed his head. _Understanding __that__ only makes this more difficult._

"Make her no promises," Sesshoumaru ordered before melting into the darkness, leaving the monk alone to face his past.

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**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #72, Reckless Courage. 400 words. Posted on July 21, 2010.


	12. Dashed

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who is willing to fight. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Dashed**

Miroku searched for something to say, but Sango saved him the trouble. "You're leaving?"

"Yes."

"You're leaving _me_?"

_Damn, but this woman has courage. _He loved that about her. So much. Holding her gaze, he whispered, "Yes."

"I won't let you," she announced grimly.

"This is not something you can stop," he said as gently as he could. "I am Sesshoumaru-sama's vassal, and my duty is now to him."

"Then... I'll kill him!"

_And the woman behind the warrior makes herself heard. _In spite of himself, Miroku smiled. "There has been enough tragedy, Sango."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You don't think I can?"

Skirting the loaded question, he said, "I know that it would be better for you to live... even if it is without me."

"I'll talk to him, and if he won't listen, I'll challenge him!" she said fiercely.

"Sango... _no_," he begged in a soft voice.

Tears shone dully in her eyes, and her voice cracked. "Let me fight for you! It's my right!"

Guilt made her tone desperate. _Not you, too. _With a groan, Miroku pulled her into his arms. _Do not blame yourself for my death; I managed that all on my own._

She stood stiff and unyielding against him. "Let me fight to stay by your side!" she begged hoarsely.

"Sesshoumaru-sama is _not_ our enemy," he reasoned, rubbing up and down her rigid spine, willing her to bend before she broke. "If it were not for him, I would not be here with you now."

"He's _my_ enemy," she mumbled against his shoulder, punctuating her declaration with a sniffle. "I would kill him to keep you."

_She means it. _Fierce and fearless, his Sango would face down any foe... and triumph. Keeping his tone light, he inquired. "You _do_ realize that as Sesshoumaru's devoted servant, it falls to me to put a stop to your plan?"

"I _thought_ you were devoted to me... to _us_?"

Miroku's arms tightened. "With all my heart."

"But you've had a change of heart?" she demanded bitterly.

"Not in the least," he murmured against her temple. "Sango, promise me you will not attack Sesshoumaru-sama."

A taut silence roared in his ears, but finally, his precious warrior relented and sagged against him with a sob. Stroking her hair, he let her cry, stoically weathering her tears with dry eyes fixed on the moon. _I could hate him for this. It would be so easy to curse Sesshoumaru-sama for his 'gift' of life, but I am weary of curses. _Though he felt selfish for wanting it, he longed for an end. _How much more must I endure?_

But enduring was part of living, so the monk locked away his own pain and focused on Sango's. Hands wandered without going astray. Kisses were stolen without raising an alarm. Words of comfort were whispered with no strings attached. And he hated every moment because Sango deserved more.

When she'd calmed enough to speak, she pleaded, "Tell him you won't go."

"I must."

"Why?"

He sighed heavily. "Sango, I was _dead_."

There was no arguing with finality. Everything came back to his end and the beginning Sesshoumaru had wrested for him.

"I'll go with you," she offered.

"I do not believe Sesshoumaru-sama would permit it," he explained, snuffing out the dim hope flickering in her eyes.

"Then... I'll wait."

Her promise cut him to the quick, for he could not respond in kind. "It would be best to let me go. That is the way things would have been."

"But it's not how they _are_," she retorted.

There was no arguing with that, either.

* * *

**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #93, Shine Dully. 600 words. Posted on July 29, 2010.


	13. Plea for Mercy

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who cannot take much more. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Plea for Mercy**

When the village came into view, the pace quickened. Only Miroku's steps lagged, then stalled. Dread plagued his already wearied soul. Turning, he waited for Sesshoumaru, who preferred to bring up the rear. The Western Lord drew to a halt and gazed calmly at his new vassal, who took this as permission to speak. "I have a request."

A brow quirked.

Mouth dry, heart racing, Miroku announced, "The longer I stay, the more difficult it will be. I do not wish to cause more pain."

The brow rose imperceptibly higher.

Sensing impatience, he begged, "Can we go _quickly_... please?"

"Tomorrow."

* * *

**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #62, Wish. 100 words. Posted on August 4, 2010.


	14. Exclusion

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who cannot stay. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Exclusion**

Inuyasha didn't linger in Kaede's hut once they arrived in the village. Instead, he followed after Miroku, who had climbed the steps to the hilltop shrine and sat looking out over the valley. "Oi, ain't you going inside? There's food and everything."

"No," Miroku replied evenly.

"Why not?"

It was a miracle the monk's voice remained steady. "I am not staying."

"That don't mean you can't visit," reasoned the hanyou.

Miroku's tight control wavered for a moment, and it took several moments before he met Inuyasha's steady gaze. Perhaps it was selfish, but he could not bear to return with the others. Choking on the words that would explain, the man only shook his head, eyes moist.

With a growl, his friend dropped to the ground beside him. "I get it. Sorry, houshi... wasn't thinking."

And for a long while, nothing else was said. Miroku appreciated his friend's silent support; the hanyou was a solid presence, close enough that their shoulders bumped whenever one of them shifted. Their camaraderie was hard-won, oft-tested, and much-valued. _Is this your way of seeing me off, friend?_

It wasn't very often that Inuyasha jumped first into a discussion, but tonight was different. Clearing his throat, he gruffly announced, "Sesshoumaru asked the old hag to keep Rin for now, and Jaken's supposed to stick around, too... to keep an eye on her. Looks like it'll just be you and him."

Miroku frowned, wondering why the news had such an ominous ring to it. He realized that in some respects, he'd been counting on the young girl's presence; she seemed to be the key to Sesshoumaru's tolerance. _Ah... now this __is__ humiliating. I was planning to hide behind a child._

"Oi, houshi," Inuyasha said, sticking an elbow into his ribs. "Don't forget the way back. If the bastard changes his mind, come home. Hell, if you can find a way to outrun him, run here."

"I cannot run from this obligation," Miroku said in a low voice. "Though he leaves me with little else, I can keep my pride... and live with honor."

The hanyou grunted, and after a lapse, he muttered, "I'm sorry, Miroku. I couldn't do nothing, and I can't do nothing. And on top of it all, it's my own damned brother screwing things up!"

"You could thank him for sparing me," the monk pointed out wryly.

"Keh... I'd rather throttle him for trying to take you away from us."

"He is not taking me," Miroku corrected. "I am going with him."

"There ain't much difference."

"There is an _enormous_ difference, my friend."

Miroku watched the stars prick their way through the darkening sky. He felt the weight of the hanyou's gaze long before he found the courage to face it. Serious golden eyes studied his face while a sensitive nose tested the air for that which remained unspoken. Finally, Inuyasha asked, "Help me out here, houshi. What's the difference?"

With a wan smile, the monk-turned-vassal offered a tiny shrug and answered, "Perspective."

* * *

**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #8, Difference. 500 words. Posted on August 17, 2010.


	15. Slipping Away

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the expressionless one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Slipping Away**

Very early the next morning, Sesshoumaru signaled his readiness to leave by... leaving.

Miroku numbly watched as the white-clad figure left his post near Kaede's hut and climbed the long stairs to the hilltop meadow where he and Inuyasha still sat. After a long, sleepless vigil, weariness drained away the monk's emotions until he felt next to nothing. _Perhaps it is a blessing not to care. _His expression was as stoic Sesshoumaru's when the taiyoukai passed under the _torii_ arch.

Golden eyes slanted his way. "Come, Miroku."

The monk nodded curtly and, ignoring the sluggishness in his limbs, dragged himself to his feet. The pair probably would have continued on without another word if Inuyasha didn't get into his half-brother's face once more. "Oi... hang on. Ain't you gonna let him say goodbye?"

"No."

"_No_?" the hanyou growled indignantly.

"No," Miroku interjected wearily. "It is enough, Inuyasha."

"Let him go, little brother," Sesshoumaru quietly ordered. "And do not follow—you _or_ yours."

"Yeah, yeah," the hanyou replied with a scowl. "So... are you comin' back?"

"Hnn."

"That wasn't a _yes_," Inuyasha grumbled, glaring at his brother's retreating back.

Miroku clasped his friend's shoulder a final time. "It wasn't a _no_, either."

* * *

**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #80, Leaving. 200 words. Posted on September 14, 2010.


	16. Glimmer

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one whose thoughts wander. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 16: Glimmer**

_Ask no questions. Make no plans. Do not look back. _Following should be simple, yet complexities buzzed in Miroku's mind. To fend them off, he dwelt on inconsequential things... like the way weariness leeched color from the sky... and how a bleak outlook cast shadows on sun-drenched landscapes.

Then, he noticed Sesshoumaru's hair. Colors lurked amidst the silver strands, glimpses of rainbow hues, reminiscent of gemstones and starlight. Miroku had always appreciated beauty, and his gaze lingered. _Perhaps I am not as dead as I feel. Perhaps there will be other things I will be glad I lived to see._

* * *

**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #72, Color. 100 words. Posted on September 25, 2010.


	17. Fighting Shadows

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who wants to fight back. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 17: Fighting Shadows**

When Miroku woke, he was alone. He peered dazedly at an unfamiliar landscape, deafened by birdsong and dampened by dew. It took several moments to recollect how he'd reached this patch of woodland. _Have I been left behind? _Conflicting emotions assaulted him, and the monk ran his fingers through his hair with a wry smile. He wasn't sure which was the greater indignity—his fleeting pang of fear, or the short-lived hope that followed close on its heels. _Something tells me Sesshoumaru-sama doesn't forget where he leaves his things. _

Miroku considered his options and realized he only had one. _Wait. _

The sun crept past the horizon and lazily ascended into a sky as blue as the monk's mood. One hour followed another, and Sesshoumaru did not appear. Patience ebbed away. Despair took its turn. Restlessness stole closer. Irritation festered. Miroku had resigned himself to a life of servitude, but for some reason, he'd expected more _occupation_ in his new occupation. _Perhaps I should have asked Jaken-sama what to expect as a vassal of the Western Lord?_ For all the monk knew, this was normal, and he would spend the rest of his days waiting and wondering. _Alone._

Sesshoumaru hadn't specifically instructed him to stay in the small copse of trees where he'd collapsed the night before. He stayed because that's what he thought the taiyoukai expected of him. However, as the morning wore on, Miroku yearned for escape. Rolling to his feet, he paced the length and breadth of the tiny clearing, eyes alert for a glimpse of the pale demon he'd sworn to serve. _Where are you? What do you want from me? _

Honor kept him from running, but the frustration roiling in his gut demanded an outlet. Strong hands tightened around the polished wood of his staff, which he twirled until its metal rings hummed. _Yes, that's right. Let me fight! _Miroku's expression hardened, and he lashed out against an invisible foe, standing his ground against the shadows in his mind. Desperation keened through disjointed thoughts as he battled against regrets that whispered about all the things he had lost. _I do not wish to be reminded!_

Nebulous thoughts and feelings resolved themselves into an anger that burned more brightly with every slashing blow. The consuming fury verged on hatred, and he embraced it. It felt _good_ to direct his bitterness outwards, to envision the face of the one who had forced him to endure so much pain. Sweat poured off his back and his brow as he whirled through a wild dance, going through the motions of a fight he'd already lost.

With a choked sob, his form faltered. Breathing raggedly, he staggered to a standstill, leaning heavily on his _shakujou_. Teetering on the edge of exhaustion, he clutched his side and blinked salt from his eyes. Sesshoumaru stood a few paces away, calmly watching. Miroku wavered before his lord, confused and ashamed. As the world tilted into blackness, one last thought brought him low. _The shadows won. _

* * *

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyfic contest**, Week 225, Doing Nothing. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #6, Hate. 500 words. Originally posted on September 21, 2010.


	18. Slap

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who wants to live. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 18: Slap**

Miroku came to with a start, his cheek stinging; however, instead of Sango's flashing eyes, he was met by Sesshoumaru's quiet gaze. "You slapped me?" the monk asked incredulously.

The taiyoukai shrugged a shoulder. "The rocks had no effect."

For a moment, Miroku thought he was joking, but several pebbles littered the grass around him. He tentatively touched the side of his face and smiled ruefully. "My apologies. It seems I have a very hard head."

Sesshoumaru gazed blankly at the man for several moments before inquiring, "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"Would it do any good?"

The taiyoukai surprised him by frowning slightly. "Tenseiga only works once."

"Ah." Somewhat to his surprise, Miroku found that he wished to live. "I shall be more cautious."

With a soft huff, Sesshoumaru declared, "You have not eaten."

Struggling to his feet with far less grace than his benefactor, he matter-of-factly replied, "I have nothing _to_ eat."

"These woods are filled with game."

"While I am sure that is true, I am no huntsman," Miroku countered. "If you wish me to fend for myself, then take me to more suitable hunting grounds."

"What do you require?"

The monk smiled serenely. "A village."

* * *

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyfic contest**, Week 226, Blank. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #37, Food. 200 words. Originally posted on September 28, 2010.


	19. Mattering

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who has his opinions. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 19: Mattering**

It never occurred to Miroku that Sesshoumaru would refuse his reasonable request. A nod in the direction of the nearest village would have been sufficient, but the taiyoukai instead whisked away into the surrounding woods, leaving him with one word. "Stay." His return was equally swift... and succinct. Dropping a dressed rabbit into the monk's outstretched hands, Sesshoumaru commanded, "Eat."

_I should be grateful. _All the while Miroku stripped sticks for spitting the meat, he tried to convince himself that gratitude was the proper response. _This is probably no more or less than what he provides for Rin-chan. _But Rin was a child... with a child's needs; Miroku was a man... with a man's pride. The prey may have been intended as a peace offering, the kind of thing Inuyasha would have done. Still, the gesture angered him. _Am I to be robbed of self-sufficiency as well? _

As he ate his meal under Sesshoumaru's watchful gaze, he reached a troubling conclusion._ I am still me, but I am no longer mine. _No matter how much Miroku wanted to escape this heavy silence, Sesshoumaru preferred to remain as they were—alone together—and his lord's wishes were the only ones that mattered anymore.

* * *

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyfic contest**, Week 229, Alone Together. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #64, It Has Completely Changed. 200 words. Originally posted on October 26, 2010.


	20. Waiting and Wanting

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who's a step ahead. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Waiting and Wanting**

Seated amidst the roots of a venerable tree, Miroku dully waited for something to happen. Spending time alone with Sesshoumaru reminded him of his brief sojourn at one of the more ascetic temples. He was indebted to those monks for passing along the intricacies of crafting and casting sutras, but the stoic silence shrouding their sacred mountaintop had been stifling.

Stealing a glance at the taiyoukai, Miroku lamented the unwelcome twist of fate that bound him. _I am Sesshoumaru-sama's vassal, and that is unlikely to change. _Still, every fiber of his being rebelled against a lifetime of hushed servility. _I only just decided that I __want__ to __live__; I do not want to live like __this__. _Restlessly rubbing circles against his right palm, he asked himself, _Why wait for something to happen when I could __make__ something happen? _

In a blinding moment of clarity, Miroku realized that he might still have something to fight for. Maybe even die for. As he plotted, agitation gradually shifted into excitement, and when a keen gaze flicked his way, he grimly met it. _Enough waiting._ As a smirk ghosted across the taiyoukai's lips, it dawned on Miroku that perhaps Sesshoumaru had been waiting, too.

* * *

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyfic contest**, Week 232, Fickle Fate. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #23, At the Limit. 200 words. Originally posted on November 23, 2010.


	21. Dignity

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who asserts himself... for all the good it does. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 21: Dignity**

"Why did you leave Rin-chan and Jaken-sama behind?"

"It suited my purposes."

Choosing to pretend Sesshoumaru's reply actually _answered_ his query, Miroku pressed on. "Will you return for them?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"When you are ready."

That gave the monk pause. "In what sense am I _un_ready?"

Tipping his head to one side, Sesshoumaru calmly inquired, "Why are you angry?"

It was an unbelievably stupid thing to ask, and Miroku's tone dipped dangerously close to sarcasm. "You have to _ask_?"

"I _choose_ to ask," Sesshoumaru replied solemnly. "You will answer."

With his fatal mistake fresh in his mind, Miroku smiled bitterly and said, "I am angry because I am alive."

"Explain."

"Thanks to your intervention, I am a living being," he replied coolly. "I acknowledge your right to my allegiance, but I am unwilling to place your dignity above my own." A brow quirked at this declaration, but Miroku forged ahead. "I am not a _thing_ to be picked up or cast aside at the whim of another."

Sesshoumaru's expression grew thoughtful, and he absently remarked, "Rin was never angry."

Miroku's jaw clenched in silent fury over the mounting indignities. _You expect me to be like her? That can be arranged._

_

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_

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyfic contest**, Week 233, Fatal. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #41, Confrontation. 200 words. Originally posted on November 30, 2010.


	22. This

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the creative one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

This oneshot was originally posted to Live Journal on December 12, 2010.

* * *

**Chapter 22: This**

Miroku spent his morning meditation steadying his nerves. Over the years, he'd played numerous roles in order to get what he wanted. _I have convinced many a daimyo of my piety and many a maiden of my good intentions... surely __this__ is within my abilities. _He breathed deeply, and as he plotted, a small smile crept onto his face. Anticipation fluttered pleasantly in his belly. _Such a lively sensation... but what a thing to live for. Ah, well. _Even if his plan didn't work as he hoped, he was looking forward to the attempt.

Just as the dew lost its daily altercation with the sun, Sesshoumaru returned from wherever it was he spent his nights. "Miroku," he called. "We are going."

The monk rose and replied, "Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama!"

His cheerful tone seemed to surprise the Western Lord, for he paused in the act of turning. Miroku returned his gaze steadily, radiating innocence. With a short huff, Sesshoumaru strode off through the trees, his new vassal trailing after.

At first, everything was as it had been. The taiyoukai set an easy pace, and the relative silence was punctuated by the pleasant jingle of Miroku's staff. However, when they reached a likely-looking meadow with an abundance of wildflowers, the monk strayed.

As soon as the shakujou was silenced, Sesshoumaru halted, and Miroku watched out of the corner of his eye to see what he would do. After considering the monk's activities for several moments, the taiyoukai drifted over. "What are you doing?"

"Miroku is picking flowers for Sesshoumaru-sama," he replied evenly.

"Why?"

"Flowers are pretty."

After a considerable pause, Sesshoumaru chose a seat nearby and calmly waited for him to finish. _I am beginning to suspect that Rin-chan has tamed him. Well... tempered him, anyhow._ The monk was very conscious of Sesshoumaru's scrutiny, but he smiled softly and began to hum.

There were plenty of blooms to choose from; Miroku favored the ones with pinkish hues, for they would have pleased Sango. He tried his hand at crafting some kind of chain or wreath, but his skills were not up to the task._ A bouquet, then. _

Sesshoumaru didn't remark upon the monk's newfound fascination with flowers, so Miroku decided to add to his charms. He'd heard Rin-chan's singing a time or two, songs of her own invention. _I'm no poet, but I know a few tunes._ Dredging up distant memories, he launching into a song his mother had sung to him once upon a time. A swift peek assured him that Sesshoumaru seemed puzzled... a good start, but not the reaction he was going for.

Warming to his role, Miroku searched his mind for a new tune. Having run out of childhood ditties, he shrugged and began a drinking song he'd learned in a red light district. The lyrics began innocently enough, but with each succeeding verse, they grew more bawdy. When he checked on his lord once more, the inu-youkai's eyes had definitely widened, and the tips of his ears were as pink as the flowers Miroku had gathered.

Rising to his feet, the monk strolled over and offered Sesshoumaru the bouquet. "Miroku found all the best ones for Sesshoumaru-sama!" he announced, giving his lashes a little flutter.

The demon glanced at the flowers, then back at the man. "Miroku."

"Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama?" he inquired sweetly.

"Stop."

"Stop _what_, Sesshoumaru-sama?" the monk asked, wearing a mask of confusion.

One clawed hand reached out, and the taiyoukai traced the edge of one fragile petal with the tip of his finger, as if acknowledging the offering. Then he stood, taking advantage of their height difference to stare down his nose at his vassal. In a low voice, gruff with authority, he answered, "This."

Immediately dropping the act, Miroku gravely asked, "Isn't _this_ what you want?"

"No."

Tossing aside the flowers, the monk pressed, "What _do_ you want?"

At first, it looked as though the Western Lord would take refuge in silence, but then he huffed. Pinning Miroku with an accusing gaze, he sternly replied, "Not this."

As the taiyoukai stalked away in the direction they'd been traveling, Miroku backtracked to collect his staff. _At least we are agreed. I do not want __this__ either. _

_

* * *

_

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyfic contest**, Week 234, Act Naturally. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #38, Height Difference. 700 words. Originally posted on December 12, 2010.


	23. Consequence

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the curious one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 23: Consequence**

"That song."

Miroku glanced up in surprise. _Is he initiating an actual conversation? _Hoping for the best, he prompted, "Song?"

"The one you sang."

The monk's eyebrows arched. "The one about the woman who could fit a..."

"No!" Sesshoumaru sharply interrupted. "The first song."

"Ah," he replied, his expression quickly shifting. "I suppose you would call it a lullaby. My mother used to sing it when I was small." The taiyoukai gazed at him thoughtfully, as if envisioning him as a boy. Miroku tried picturing the stoic taiyoukai as thumb-sucking toddler, and had to cover a smile. "Did your mother sing to you?"

"Does it matter?"

_Does it? _Miroku's childhood memories were fuzzy at best, yet they were somehow dear._ Does Sesshoumaru hold anything dear? _Sighing, he replied, "It shouldn't."

"So it does?"

"Yes?"

Sesshoumaru slowly tapped his fingers against Tenseiga's hilt, then nodded once. "I will make inquiries."

Miroku shook his head, bemused by both the conversation and the resulting concession. _It would seem I have squandered an opportunity. What use to me is a demon's lullaby?_ As the journey resumed, he promised himself that the next time Sesshoumaru was feeling generous, he would ask for something of consequence.

* * *

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyissekiwa**, Week 118, Thumb. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #52, Past. 200 words. Originally posted on February 3, 2011.


	24. Intent

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the purposeful one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Intent**

Sesshoumaru walked. Miroku followed. The daily routine varied little, yet on _this_ morning, something about the taiyoukai's gait struck the monk as being more purposeful. He was intrigued by the nuances that were emerging. _Who knew silence could be so telling? _

Some of his new lord's silences were contemplative, some restless. There were times when Sesshoumaru's attention seemed to be fixed on a far away point, and at others, Miroku was uncomfortably aware that it was leveled intently upon him.

This was the first time Miroku had encountered a _searching_ silence, and it piqued his curiosity. _Where we are going?_

_

* * *

_

**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #75, Somewhere. 100 words. Posted on March 10, 2011.


	25. Sniffing Around

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the nostalgic one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 25: Sniffing Around**

Over hills, through valleys, in sunshine, or rain shower—Sesshoumaru's gait never varied. For the most part, Miroku appreciated the easy pace, but there were times when he would have liked a little variety. Inuyasha had often cajoled him into running like an idiot over the countryside, the two of them pushing themselves in an effort to outrun the maddening sense of urgency that had ruled their lives. Sango and Kagome would follow with Shippo on Kirara, and... _I miss them_. A pang throbbed in his heart, but for once, Miroku managed to smile through the pain because it was such a _good_ memory. _I __should__ miss them. They were dear... and always will be. _

While the monk was lost in bittersweet memories, Sesshoumaru's steady stride slowed to a standstill. The taiyoukai gazed about with peculiar intensity, and after several moments, Miroku realized that he was taking deep breaths. _Has he been searching for this place... or a scent? _They'd been climbing steadily for the better part of the morning, and the high meadow his new lord was scrutinizing was unremarkable, save for its beauty. "Is this it?" Miroku politely inquired.

"Hnn," the inu-youkai replied, nose still working.

"May I inquire why we are here?"

"Hnn," he replied distractedly, wandering off towards a stand of coniferous trees.

Determinedly following, he patiently pressed, "Sesshoumaru-sama, why are we here?"

Golden eyes briefly slanted his way. "I am trying to remember."

"Remember what?"

"A song."

Miroku was stunned. _Is he really is trying to recall a childhood lullaby simply because I said it was important? _He was forced to hurry his steps to catch up to Sesshoumaru once again, for the inu-youkai was exploring around the roots of the ancient trees that sheltered the grassy slope. "Coming here will help you remember?"

"Perhaps."

"But... why?" the monk pressed, mystified.

"Scent is memory."

"Ah," he replied, thinking hard. He doubted any individual traces could linger so long in a place like this, but perhaps the scent of the meadow itself held significance. "Is this a place from your childhood?"

"This is my birthplace."

Miroku straightened, and slowly, a sense of awe filled him._ It was the same when Inuyasha brought us to the place where his mother is buried. _The hanyou had been brusquely bashful about revealing the spot... and pleased when they'd all paid their respects. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Miroku detected nothing but clean, clear air and the faint scent of pine, and when he opened his eyes, he found Sesshoumaru watching him with the barest trace of amusement. The monk smiled crookedly and said, "My nose is not as keen as yours, but scents bring back memories for humans, too."

The taiyoukai nodded and said, "The scent of flowers remind Rin of her mother."

"Do they?" he returned, feeling a little giddy over having established actual dialogue. To his chagrin, he couldn't think of anything to say to keep the conversation flowing.

Gazing thoughtfully into the middle distance, Sesshoumaru inquired, "Do you remember where you were born?"

"I was shown the place."

"Show me."

The flat demand took him aback, and the monk asked, "Why?"

The taiyoukai merely lifted a shoulder and gazed at him expectantly. Leaning on his shakujou, Miroku glanced at the position of the sun in the sky as he gathered his wits and got his bearings. "The village is that way... more or less," he announced, pointing.

Sesshoumaru inclined his head and replied, "Proceed."

For several moments, the monk grappled with disbelief; then, he cautiously asked, "You wish me to take the lead?"

"Hnn."

"Yes, milord," he gravely accepted. Choosing a direction that would run them into one of the roads Sesshoumaru was so fond of ignoring, Miroku began walking. After several moments, he glanced back over his shoulder to see the taiyoukai drifting after him, eyes half-focused as he contemplated the clouds. A slow smile spread across Miroku's face, and without a word of warning or explanation, he picked up his pace... then began to jog... then ran like an idiot across the countryside. There was no urgency driving him this time, but it was nice for a change. He actually felt _free_.

* * *

**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #94, Place of Birth. 700 words. Posted on March 17, 2011.


	26. Backtracking

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one given to exaggeration. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess

* * *

**Chapter 26: Backtracking**

It took a few hours for Miroku to run across a cart track; he he followed it until it joined a better-traveled lane, which in turn brought him to a proper road. A passing inquiry with a farmer settled his bearings, and he turned with confidence towards the city of his birth. _Two days should find us there_, the monk estimated as he watched for landmarks.

Nearing evening, their path crossed that of a mother with a babe strapped to her back and a young boy by the hand. She froze in her tracks, pushing her son behind her. Given the company he now kept, Miroku could understand her stricken expression. Swiftly backtracking, he intercepted Sesshoumaru and murmured, "If you would excuse me, milord." Then, he turned back to the bystanders and stretched his arms wide, making himself a barrier between them and the taiyoukai. "It is safe to pass, my good woman. He is quite tame."

"Th-thank you, houshi-sama," she murmured, and with a quick bob and a fearful glance at the silver-haired demon, she scurried past, hurrying her young family towards safety.

"Explain," Sesshoumaru demanded softly.

"Ah... I _have_ been known to exaggerate from time to time."

"Exaggerate?"

"Well, yes," Miroku replied, offering a cheery wave to the boy peering back over his shoulder at them. "Under circumstances such as these, it is kinder to bend the truth."

"Which truth has been bent?" the taiyoukai smoothly inquired. "Be precise."

Once the other travelers had disappeared over the hill, the man slowly turned to face the displeasure in Sesshoumaru's gaze. With a faint smile, he replied, "I have _no idea_ if she was a good woman."

Predatory golden eyes narrowed slightly, and Sesshoumaru's voice dropped menacingly. "Tame?"

"Clearly, she was also _incredibly_ gullible," Miroku said with a straight face

* * *

**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #15, Traveling. 300 words. Posted on April 1, 2011.


	27. Give and Take

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one with a silver tongue. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 27: Give and Take**

Miroku knew how to rough it, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the outdoors. Making the best of things simply wasn't his style. _Taking_ the best was more to his liking. Around mid-morning, the smell of smoke teased at his senses. A roadside tea house soon came into view, and his steps slowed as he sniffed appreciatively at the blending of sweet and savory aromas. He quickly assessed the patrons with an eye towards turning a profit.

Striking just the right downtrodden tone might charm a skewer of dumplings out of the proprietress. Pretty maids might part with a few coins to hear their fortunes, and gossipy old men often shared their bottle of sake while trading tales. However, the monk regretfully dismissed these schemes. _Gaining confidence from unsuspecting humans is considerably hindered by the looming presence of a demon at my back. _With one last, longing look, he kept walking; to his chagrin, a whiff of miso soup made his stomach rumble.

"Miroku."

The monk hesitated as Sesshoumaru drew alongside, then pressed a pouch into his hand. "I want tea."

"You do?" With a quirk of one brow, the taiyoukai drifted towards a nearby tree and chose a seat at its base. _He does._ Bemusedly extracting a few coins, Miroku secreted the rest in his sleeve and entered the tea house to see if his skills were still up to the task of procuring a free lunch.

Several minutes later, a triumphant monk exited the establishment with a laden tray and presented Sesshoumaru with a pot of the tea house's finest, a plateful of dumplings, a covered bowl of miso soup, and a small dish of pickled vegetables. "The proprietress sends her humble greetings to the inestimable Lord of the West, whose mercy is only outshone by his generosity."

Sesshoumaru blinked, then remarked, "Human opinion is easily swayed by money."

"That may be," the monk allowed, but he smiled smugly as he poured fragrant liquid into a tea cup for his lord. "However, I only parted with enough coins to cover the cost of your tea."

Golden eyes sparked with interest. "And the rest?"

Settling himself comfortably on the grass, Miroku lifted the lid on the soup, breathed in the richly-scented steam, then took a slow sip. Nodding to himself, he replied, "I merely told her an exciting tale about a benevolent demon lord who rescued this lowly monk from the depths of hell with a heavenly blade."

"You told these humans about Tenseiga?" Sesshoumaru asked, his voice low.

"Not in so many words," he assured, waving aside the taiyoukai's displeasure. "She was so impressed by your magnanimity, she chose to favor you with her special reserve pickles. According to the farmers dining inside, last year's radish crop was the best they've seen in a decade."

The Western Lord glanced incredulously between the smug man and the offering of food. "You traded upon my reputation for pickles?"

"Is it not a retainer's duty to sing the praises of the one he serves?" Miroku inquired, savoring another mouthful of soup.

Sesshoumaru's head slowly canted to one side, and he gestured towards the food. "You are pleased by this?"

"I am," the man replied without apology. For the first time since he'd begun traveling with Sesshoumaru, he'd fended for himself. "You are not?" he inquired lightly.

The taiyoukai gravely replied, "I do not like pickles."

Miroku offered him some of the dumplings, but the Western Lord declined, contenting himself with tea. The monk took his time over the meager repast and found it eminently satisfying. Once the tray was returned with suitably extravagant compliments, he recalled the heavy pouch. Withdrawing it from his sleeve, he inquired, "If I may be so bold, why does a youkai bother to carry human currency?"

"Normally, I do not," Sesshoumaru replied in the vague tones. Pointedly ignoring the man's puzzled gaze, he added, "I leave such things to my retainers."

Straightening somewhat, Miroku asked, "Are you entrusting this to me?"

Those keen, golden eyes searched his face, and the taiyoukai inquired, "You are pleased by this?"

As his fingers tightened around his first tangible responsibility as the Western Lord's retainer, Miroku honestly replied, "I am."

**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #51, Take. 700 words. Posted on April 15, 2011.


	28. Humble Beginnings

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who spun comforting tales. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 28: Humble Beginnings**

Miroku gazed down on a prosperous village spanning both sides of a river, its wide bridges allowing for foot traffic between facing banks. Fine homes marched up the south-facing hill, but _his_ birthplace lay down a much less exalted street, under the lights of red lanterns. The lone child of an unwed mother, Miroku had borrowed against quick wits and good manners to endear himself to local merchants_. _The two of them survived on the pittance of her wages and his considerable bartering skills... until his mother sickened.

Word was sent, but a monk named Mushin had come in his father's place. The old man slept late and drank early, but through the long hours of the night, he stayed by his mother's side, telling stories of the dashing wanderer who'd won her heart. _She was all I had._

Mushin brought him back years later, adolescent heir to a dreadful curse. Under red lantern-light, they drank saké, and the old man told stories of the pretty young maid who'd won his father's heart. By then, Miroku knew better than to believe everything, but his mentor's ramblings eased some of his bitterness. _He was all I had._

With a sidelong glance at the inu-youkai who was now his _all_, Miroku announced, "I was born there."

Sesshoumaru gazed impassively at the sprawl of humanity. "Show me."

"You may find the environs unpleasant," he warned.

"Undoubtedly."

"Then why do you wish to see them?" Sesshoumaru shrugged a shoulder, and Miroku sighed, "Yes, milord."

* * *

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyissekiwa**, Week 123, Borrow. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #06, Nostalgic. 250 words. Originally posted on April 14, 2011.


	29. Veneer

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who changes his mind. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 29: Veneer**

Miroku felt increasingly awkward as he walked through the prosperous village. With a genial smile and placating gestures, the monk did what he could to reassure gawkers that his companion posed no immediate threat, but the closer they drew to the red light district, the greater his discomfort grew. _Sesshoumaru-sama does not belong here. _

He hesitated outside the gaudy gates marking entrance to the world into which he'd been born, knowing the inu-youkai would smell, hear, and see past the veneer of bright paint and false smiles. Lingering resentments tempted Miroku to horrify the demon, dragging his dignity through the seediest taverns, exposing him to base things, but once again, he reached the same conclusion. _Sesshoumaru-sama does not belong here. _

Additionally, if scent was memory, he discovered that he didn't want these seamy, sour odors to color Sesshoumaru's opinion of him. Pointing into the pleasure district, Miroku announced, "This is where my mother lived and died."

Sesshoumaru's expression was scrupulously blank. "Hnn."

"This is where my life began, but I did not stay." Turning to the taiyoukai, he asked, "Instead of entering this place, may I show you where my father died?"

With a grave nod, Sesshoumaru replied, "Yes. You do not belong here."

Miroku felt increasingly light on his feet as he set the prosperous village at his back. The taiyoukai wasn't one to waste words, and Miroku was ridiculously pleased by his assessment. With a genuine smile he set a brisk pace towards the mountains in the distance.

* * *

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyissekiwa**, Week 124, Point. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #22, Bad Reputation. 250 words. Originally posted on April 25, 2011.


	30. Exceptions

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who turns heads. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 30: Exceptions **

Miroku was used to drawing attention; after all, jangling _shakujou_ had a way of turning heads. However, as the road into the mountains wound through one small village after another, he was reminded that he was different than most. _Humans and youkai rarely mingle, let alone travel in company._

Every passerby's stricken expression brought to mind his own surprise when Kagome had first invited him to join the search for jewel shards. He'd dismissed her carefree acceptance of Inuyasha and Shippo as innocence and ignorance, but then... _Sango_. Miroku smiled in spite of the memory's bittersweet tang. One of the first things that had intrigued him about the taijiya was how devoted Kirara was to her, and vice versa.

As another farmer cowered in a ditch while he and Sesshoumaru passed by, Miroku conceded that he and his friends were the exception. That gave him pause. _Do demons find it equally abnormal for Sesshoumaru-sama to retain a human? _It seemed likely, though he had nothing on which to base the assumption. Thus far, their paths hadn't crossed those of any other youkai, but he supposed the sentiments would be similar. Glancing at the demon trailing after him, Miroku asked, "What do other youkai think of Rin-chan?"

"Ah-Un is attached. Jaken is resigned."

"I meant _other_ youkai."

Golden eyes skimmed his face. "They are of no consequence."

"You sound like Inuyasha," he wryly accused. A brow quirked, and the monk explained, "I believe his exact words were, 'the rest can go to hell.'"

The taiyoukai huffed and said, "My brother is too soft."

"Oh? In what sense?"

Sesshoumaru's gaze drifted back towards the sky. "Better to personally send 'the rest' to hell than trust them to find their way."

Until that moment, Miroku hadn't realized he still knew how to laugh.

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**End Note: **A version of this drabble was entered at the Live Journal community **iyfic contest**, Week 151— Abnormality. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #95, Foolish People. 300 words. Originally posted on June 7, 2011.


	31. High Places

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the one who appreciates beauty. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 31: High Places**

Atop the lengthy flight of stairs leading to the temple where he grew up, Miroku breathed deeply of mountain-clean air. Everything was as he remembered it—wide porches and the graceful sweep of tiled roofs, towering cliffs and the roaring splash of a waterfall.

Although Sesshoumaru didn't remark on the spectacular view, he spent long moments taking it in, and the monk couldn't help but feel proud. This was as close to a home as he'd ever had, and it was just as beautiful as the taiyoukai's birthplace. In a small way, their similar beginnings gave him a sense of kinship.

* * *

**End Note: **This installment was written for the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #56, Splash/Spray. 100 words. Posted on September 1, 2011.


	32. To the Brim

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the stubborn one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 32: To the Brim**

"Is that you, Miroku?" exclaimed the fat old monk lounging on a porch. He heaved to his feet and stumped closer. "Don't tell me the _kazaana_ is giving you trouble again! You risk too much, using it as often as you do!"

With great pleasure, Miroku offered his hands to the man who'd attempted to raise him. Mushin blinked blearily at the bared palm once pierced by a void. "It's gone?" he gasped, hardly believing his eyes. Peering first into the young monk's face, then up at the taiyoukai, Mushin asked, "Did you break the curse, youkai-sama?"

Miroku smoothly interjected, "Sesshoumaru-sama had a hand in Naraku's demise. I owe him my life."

The old monk bowed low, then clapped his hands together. "This calls for saké!"

It was a quiet celebration that encompassed both sunset and moonrise. With his sleeves tied back, Miroku kept the saké cups brimming until he was forced to go inside for a second cask. Its arrival was met by Mushin's approving grunt... and a flicker of an entirely different emotion on Sesshoumaru's part. Remembering how sensitive Inuyasha's palate was, the monk berated himself for thoughtlessness... and his lord for stubbornness.

Excusing himself once more, he returned with yet another saké jug. Sesshoumaru's stare could only be called baleful, though it lost most of its force when he blinked out of sync. Leaning close as he filled the taiyoukai's cup, Miroku murmured, "Mushin can drink all night long, so do not try to keep up. I have changed yours to water."

Sesshoumaru's hand wavered slightly before finding his retainer's shoulder and gripping it firmly. With the faintest sibilance, he earnestly declared, "You show considerable potential. I was right."

"In what regard, milord?" Miroku inquired curiously.

Tossing back the fresh water, Sesshoumaru haughtily replied, "In every regard."

* * *

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyissekiwa**, Week 133, Drink. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #97, Alcohol. 300 words. A 250-word contest version of this drabble was originally posted on September 1, 2011.


	33. Leaving a Mark

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the realistic one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 33: Leaving a Mark**

Miroku and Sesshoumaru stood on the edge of a deep basin. Over the last decade, grasses had grown up the sides of the circular hollow carved into the gentle slope below the temple, and Mushin had seen to the placement of a stone marker. The spot had an air of dignity to it now, but Miroku's memories of the night it was formed were bleak. A terrible wind and the heavy scent of damp earth. Desperate pleas that were lost in a storm of death. Lancing pains like icy needles piercing his palm. Hastily mumbled rites and a string of beads to hold in the darkness. Miroku flexed his fingers and made a fist as a sudden ghost pain made him wish his palm was covered.

He'd barely known his father, for the man rarely visited. Looking back, he supposed it would be charitable to say that the search for Naraku had kept them apart. Mushin had even told him that his father's long absences were for his sake, that the monk was desperately fighting to save both their lives. _If only. _Miroku had been as quick-witted a child as he was a man, and he'd seen enough to know that his father wasn't noble. _He ran._ Faced with the promise of an early death, the man had abandoned hope. Travel was an escape, and days had been squandered in farflung pleasure districts. Miroku often wondered if life would be different had his father _tried_.

Right at the end, he'd rushed back to them, cradling his arm and begging Mushin to take a look at a hand gone numb with the cold it contained. The cursed man had spoken little, drunk much, and died alone, leaving a barren crater, an empty legacy, and a son who pledged to do better.

* * *

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyissekiwa**, Week 134, Abandon. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #1, Theme #17, Abandonment. 300 words. A 250-word contest version of this drabble was originally posted on September 15, 2011.


	34. Progression

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the realistic one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

* * *

**Chapter 34: Progression**

"What is this place?" Sesshoumaru inquired.

"This is where the void defeated my father."

"Hnn." After a time, the taiyoukai offered, "They hid my father's grave from me."

Miroku tentatively admitted, "I heard the story... more than once, actually."

Sesshoumaru scoffed, "An aggrandized tale of my defeat."

He was right, but only in part. "Stories change along with perspectives."

With a slight frown, the Western Lord considered his new retainer's words, then asked, "What changed?"

Miroku chose his words with care. "Your brother barely mentioned _you_ at first; it was all about Tetsusaiga. Kagome was partially convinced Inuyasha had a crush on that sword, the way he carried on about it."

The taiyoukai's lips twitched.

"Later, your brother asked Sango questions about his father's bones. From what I understand, their size was incredible."

"He was great," Sesshoumaru solemnly confirmed.

Miroku gazed towards richly painted sky to the west. "I suspect Inuyasha regretted taking your arm."

"Unlikely."

"He was relieved when you reclaimed it, and I do not think it was because you would no longer seek Tetsusaiga."

Sesshoumaru held up his left hand, fanning his fingers before making a fist. He thoughtfully murmured, "I see."

Miroku believed him... and smiled.

* * *

**End Note: **This oneshot was entered at the Live Journal community **iyissekiwa**, Week 135, Rich. I'm also adding it to my docket at the Live Journal community **iy no kakera**, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #9, Regret. 200 words, originally posted on September 29, 2011.


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